


Rendezvous

by ElenaCee



Series: The Consultant [7]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Fisting, Augment biology, Blood and Gore (mentioned), Blow Jobs, Bottom!Khan, Canon-Typical Violence, Cock Rings, Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic, Fluff and Angst, Light Bondage, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot, Tribbles (Star Trek)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-01
Updated: 2016-07-24
Packaged: 2018-05-10 21:35:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5601922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElenaCee/pseuds/ElenaCee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The USS Enterprise and the USS Farragut have a scheduled rendezvous in space. The plan is to keep Khan's presence aboard the Enterprise secret. Things do not go according to plan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Finished! Thank you all for your patience. I've been writing this last chapter on a tablet while sailing my boat during my annual leave, which held me up a bit.
> 
> As always, thanks for all the kudos and comments! They mean a lot. <3

The doors to the mess hall opened before them, a hubbub of voices meeting their ears and the smell of various evening meals reaching their noses. Well, Jim mentally amended, all that probably impacted Khan's ears and nose more than it did his own, numb-nosed and nearly deaf normal human that he was. The thought caused an upsurge of unexpected but not at all surprising affection for the man next to him.

Still bolstered by its warmth, he walked in with the Augment by his side as if that were a normal occurrence. And indeed, nobody seemed to pay the two of them any more mind than they would anyone else entering the mess hall. For Jim's crew, Khan's presence aboard - and at Jim's side - had indeed become a familiar and practically expected state of events by now, barely worth looking up from their plates for.

JIm noticed that Khan, too, was moving with nothing more than his characteristic controlled grace, with hardly any of the compulsive vigilance in evidence that he had displayed before. Maybe things were finally beginning to settle down. Maybe, this time, they would even stay settled down. One could only hope....

Of course, it turned out soon enough that things were not all violins and roses. When the two of them reached the food synthesizers, the computer informed them that it was unable to synthesize a number of food flavors.

Grinning at Khan's slight pout - one of the affected food flavors was curcumin - Jim said, "Running low on raw materials, apparently. High time we got some supplies, huh?"

"I'd say so, yes," Khan said, brows contracting as he reconsidered his dinner choice. "How long until our rendezvous with the Farragut?"

"Seventeen hours. Think you can survive that long?"

Khan favored him with a supercilious look. "I can survive indefinitely on nothing but paper and water. I'll certainly be able to do without a simple condiment. And fortunately, there are alternatives."

Indeed, ginger and chili were still available, so the Augment would be able to satisfy his appetite for spicy hot food despite the current lack of curry, while Jim settled for something a little more palatable and a little more - at least for him - traditional.

They carried their plates to their usual table, which already had Bones and Spock sitting at it. Nodding their greetings, they took their seats.

"Bishop to king's level six," Khan said with a glance at Spock, before taking the first bite of his meal.

Spock's eyebrow rose. Then he frowned, blinking.

Bones swallowed his mouthful of pizza. "Didn't expect that one, huh?" he teased his favorite foil.

"I had calculated the probability of that particular move occurring to be at below ten percent," the Vulcan admitted, pushing his empty plate away from him. From the debris left, Jim guessed that Spock had had his usual salad.

"'Below ten percent'?" Jim got in his own dig around his mouthful of quiche. "That seems rather imprecise. Spock, are you feeling alright?"

The Vulcan, of course, remained unruffled. "Perfectly fine, Captain. Specifying the precise figure to the last digit seemed unnecessary. I am, however, concerned about the mental health of our consultant. As it stands now, I call mate in five moves."

They looked at Khan, who chewed and swallowed, calmly returning each of their gazes. "Glad you think so, Spock," the Augment said when he could speak again, and promptly left it at that.

"Knight takes bishop at king's level six," Spock said after a moment. "Mate in four."

Khan's eyes flashed. "Rook to king's level six, takes knight. Check. Mate in two."

Spock blinked again. "I... concede."

There was a brief silence at their table while, all around them, muted conversation continued. "Well," Bones finally said. "Good thing I didn't suggest that bet I was considering."

"A double ambush," Spock said, sounding awed, or as awed as he ever allowed himself to sound.

"Don't feel bad about it," Khan said, almost - but not quite - managing to leave his customary haughtiness out of his voice. "Chess is a stylized battlefield. Excelling on the battlefield is what I was designed for. You, however, were bred for logic and peacefulness. It'll always stand in your way, even in a battle game." He took a swig of his drink as if to emphasize his point.

They fell silent, each one of them remembering a time when Spock had, in fact, not let that stand in his way, due to extraordinary circumstances.

"Usually stand in your way," Khan amended after a moment, clearly remembering as well. "Unless you can get in touch with your savage ancestry." He bared his teeth at Spock playfully. "Which you will have to, if you intend to beat me at chess."

"While you are always governed by your violent emotions, which tends to blind you to peaceful solutions to conflicts," Spock returned, raising an eyebrow. "I will identify the pattern to your strategy eventually, by which time you won't be able to win that easily anymore."

"Ah, but there is no pattern," Khan said with a wave of his spoon, his customary arrogance back in full force. "Each battle is unique. Each enemy is unique. I adapt. You, however, don't. We played four games, and that's more than I needed to 'identify your pattern', Spock. I didn't even have to consciously think about it."

"Because that's what you were made for," Bones interjected, pushing his empty plate away. "So you're essentially saying that humans can be genetically programmed to excel in battle. Or, to expand on that, to excel at anything. Music. Mathematics." He shrugged, waving an expansive hand. "... Bakery."

"Well, I wouldn't say 'programmed'," Khan said. "I was given the capability for it on a genetic level, the talent for it, if you will, but there also was extensive training. Both nature and nurture played a part - if you can speak of 'nature' in this context, given that I was artificially created in a lab."

"So," Jim put in, "you can also decide to not do battle, for a change. To seek the peaceful solution Spock mentioned. To simply be a good... well, baker. It's not a... an urge... Bones, what expression am I looking for?"

"Genetic imperative?"

"Right. It's not a genetic imperative for you to always seek a martial solution. You can pick up the pen instead of the sword if you want to. Right?"

"Yes, my warrior-poet," Khan said with that special half-smile Jim liked to think was reserved just for him. "I may not have any ambition towards creating superior baked goods, but I'm not 'always governed by my violent emotions', either. As you very well know."

Jim didn't blush, but it was a near thing.

"Vulcans have a genetic imperative," Spock offered unexpectedly, distracting Bones from Jim's near-blush and Jim from his quiche.

"You do?" the ship's surgeon asked, looking baffled.

"Yes."

When nothing more was forthcoming, Bones leaned forward. "C'mon, Spock, you can't leave us hanging like that. Details, man. What imperative?"

But Spock, as usual, proved to be a killjoy. "The details are not important to the point I was making, which is that genetics can certainly affect an individual profoundly, even an individual from a species as advanced as humans or Vulcans. Some things are genetically hard-coded. Most are not. But many processes involved in the development, aging, and death of an individual are determined by their genetics and can only marginally be affected by the environment, or by nurture, if you will."

"And if they are genetic, they can be affected by genetic engineering," Bones continued that train of thought. "Noonien, what about Augments? Was there any fiddling with your life expectancy?"

"I don't know," Khan said, voice and face carefully controlled. Jim noticed that he had stopped eating. "We weren't exactly handed a blueprint of our genetic codes. And none of us have lived long enough to find out. Most of us never will." Then he looked away, taking a deep breath.

Spock, the telepath, compressed his lips in an expression of acute discomfort.

There was another pause. Jim felt a sharp pang of sympathy. Khan was the only one left. All the other Augments that had made the long journey into the twenty-third century were dead, killed by Section 31 in an effort to intimidate Khan.

"Sorry," Bones said, sounding gruffly contrite.

Khan nodded, accepting the apology wordlessly.

Jim gave him a sympathetic smile. The Augment rarely talked about what had amounted to the premeditated, deliberate genocide of his people, but Jim had suspected that Khan was still grieving. Spock's reaction just now gave him the proof. Silently, Jim vowed to make it up to him as soon as the opportunity arose and they were alone somewhere private.

"Well," Bones said, "what other depressing topics can we talk about, now that I've gone and completely ruined the dinner mood?"

"The current lack of curcumin," Khan said immediately, visibly fighting down his feelings while picking his spoon back up. "And the lack of planets to conquer and rule over. I generally find a good conquest to be a balm to the soul."

As always, Khan's peculiar brand of humor failed to elicit any outright laughter, but both Jim and Bones rewarded the attempt with a smile. Spock, of course, merely looked pensive.

That was when Jim was struck by a thought. Fiddling with the Augments' life expectancy, Bones had said. What if there had, in fact, been such fiddling, though not in the Augments' favor, but against it? After all, they had been an experiment. Those 20th century scientists had basically succeeded in creating supermen. What if they had wanted to make sure that their creations would not escape their control? Or at least, even if they did, that there would be a failsafe?

What if, instead of prolonging the Augments' life expectancies, the eugenics scientists had shortened it? What if there was a kill switch embedded in Khan's genetic code that would kill him? In a year, in a week? Tomorrow?

_It fucking makes sense._

There was a hissing sound in Jim's ears while, next to him, Bones and Khan launched into a discussion of the benefits - or lack thereof - of curcumin. Jim could practically feel his stomach drop and his lips go numb.

Khan, of course, noticed, and gave him a sharp glance.

 _Act normally,_ Jim told himself, taking a deep breath. _It might not happen. There might be nothing to it. It's probably all in your head, anyway._ "Indigestion," he said, forcing a smile. "That quiche doesn't agree with me."

Khan frowned, looking skeptical, but didn't press the issue.

Jim was grateful. He didn't want to raise any alarms without good reason. Khan certainly was carrying enough mental baggage around without Jim's flights of fancy piled on top of it.

But he resolved to talk to Bones about it, if only for his own peace of mind.

 

* * *

 

Jim regarded Khan's old-fashioned toothbrush next to his own sonic dental cleaner. It was such a familiar sight by now that it was hard to remember a time when Jim had been the sole inhabitant of his quarters, and his dental cleaner had had no quaintly low-tech twin.

Khan still maintained his own quarters, but he only ever used them when he felt the need to be alone, which wasn't often. During his time awake - around twenty hours per day -, the Augment was usually to be found at any one place all over the ship, getting to know Jim's crew, working out with the guys from Security in the gym, experimenting with engine and weapons improvements down in Engineering, or spending hours on end reading up on the things he had yet to learn about the 23rd century. And, as Jim had learned a while ago, Khan also had a deep-seated need for the company of his loved ones, a group that at present figured Jim prominently.

 _We might as well make it official,_ Jim surprised himself by thinking. _I haven't looked at anyone else since I met him, and he spends all his nights here with me. Of course, things might be different for him if we weren't cooped up in a space ship like this. But for me, I truly think that he is the one. Someone I could actually spend the rest of my life with._

 _However long the rest of_ his _life might be,_ another part of him put in. _Maybe it'll all be over for him tomorrow. Maybe he'll just go to sleep tonight and not wake up, killed by a genetic program that none of us suspect is there. Maybe these few hours are all that is left for us..._

"Have you fallen in?" the Augment's voice came over the intercom, interrupting Jim's increasingly depressing train of thought.

"Patience, tiger," Jim replied, fighting down his fear, telling himself it was unfounded and stupid, and to enjoy the moment, dammit.

"I wasn't designed for patience, my Roman emperor," Khan growled back. "Either hurry up, or I'll start without you."

 _Talk about distraction... and motivation,_ Jim thought. As if he'd ever miss the sight of the Augment in the throes of sexual arousal with nothing but his own hands to satisfy him. Not even a Vulcan Kohlinar adept would remain unmoved, or so Jim's informed opinion went.

"Gimme ten seconds," he called back, grabbing the dental cleaner and firmly pushing the dark thoughts away. _If this truly is our last day together, we'll damned well make the most of it._ "Okay, sixty. No more than sixty."

"Ow," Khan replied as soon as Jim switched on the device.

"Sorry," Jim said indistinctly, switching off the intercom in order to keep the ultrasonic vibrations inside the bathroom. Vaguely, he wondered if Spock and Nyota Uhura had similar problems, what with Vulcan senses, or if this was purely an Augment-related issue. Another thing to ask Bones about.

As soon as the bathroom door opened to admit Jim into the cabin proper, Khan grabbed him before he even could fully step out, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him against his naked, warm, and very aroused body. "That was more than sixty seconds," Khan growled, moving in to nip at Jim's neck in a playful bite. The sensations went straight to Jim's groin.

Jim spared a second being grateful that he, too, had dispensed with his clothes. As soon as Khan committed to giving up his control and to surrendering to the imperatives of sex, there usually was little time to fiddle with closures or zippers. He had begun to introduce the Augment to the concept of delayed gratification a while ago, but it was an uphill battle made harder - pun intended - by Khan's genetic augmentations that tended to brook no delay.

"Sixty-five, tops," he said, running his hands over Khan's body, feeling the hard muscles covered by inhumanly smooth skin, his own body beginning to be swept along as his arousal grew, their physiologies getting in sync due to, probably, pheromones. "Maybe sixty-nine?"

Ignoring Jim's witticism, Khan gave a non-verbal reply - a deep, purring sound that reverberated in Jim's diaphragm and seemed to reach in straight to his balls. Then Khan nuzzled him, beginning to move his hips against Jim's body as if unable to keep still; the Augment's hold tightened, and Jim felt himself being lifted and carried, to be settled on the bed with Khan on top of him, still purring, still moving compulsively, eyes slitted with arousal.

"Noonien," Jim said, trying to catch Khan's heated gaze. "Noonien. Slow down. Try to relax. Take it easy. Slow down."

"Need you," Khan protested, voice rough and breathing beginning to speed up. "Need you, Jim."

"Shh, I know. I'm here. I'm not leaving. I'm just trying to... -" _Distract him. Make the sensations go elsewhere._ Preparation, in the form of a strategically placed tub of lube, came to Jim's aid, and soon, a lubed finger found its way towards its goal.

Jim's tactics worked. Khan's purr turned into a deep hum of encouragement when he realized what Jim was up to. With a shameless wriggle, he exposed himself to JIm's touch, arms closing about Jim with barely leashed strength.

"Oof," Jim forced out. "Noonien. Hey. Need to breathe. Restraint. Please."

"All right," Khan said after a moment, visibly forcing himself back towards lucidity and letting go of Jim. "But hurry up."

It actually took Jim a second to cotton on to the fact that Khan had misunderstood him, and had in fact agreed to being restrained instead of just using restraint. Never one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Jim smiled and made a long arm, fishing out the antigrav restraints they had used before.

Khan readily allowed Jim to click the restraints onto his wrists and ankles, writhing slowly and wantonly while lying on his back, like a snake basking in the warmth of the sun. Gently, Jim got the Augment in position, voice-activating the restraints as soon as the long limbs were arranged to Jim's satisfaction.

Khan growled playfully - at least, Jim fervently hoped it was playful - and pulled at the restraints, muscles bunching and straining, looking so thoroughly edible that Jim actually felt his mouth water.

"Okay?" he asked, needing to make sure.

"Get on with it," Khan forced out by way of reply. His pale skin had assumed a deep flush, his chest was rising and falling with his fast breaths, his normally precise diction nonexistent, all his usual control blown to hell, and he hadn't even been touched yet. And the mere sight of him - or possibly the pheromones - were rapidly putting Jim in quite a similar state.

Jim draped himself on top of the Augment, his aroused body touching Khan's intimately. There was immediate friction due to neither of them being able to keep still.

Khan made a deep noise of approval, moving more rhythmically as much as he was able to, already well on his way towards orgasm and apparently perfectly fine with getting off this way.

Jim, however, wasn't. He wanted a bit more finesse, a bit more… delay. He raised himself off, eliciting a growl of protest and a twinge of frustation from his own body, and rolled aside, reaching for his tried-and-trusted cock ring.

Khan growled again. From the sound, Jim suspected there were words in there, but they were unintelligible, making Jim grin with fond amusement. "Easy, tiger, you'll get there. Just let me get this thing on, and I'll take the edge off."

Heated eyes found and locked on his as Khan ineffectually pulled on the restraints holding his arms and legs in place. Jim watched him, fascinated by the sight of flexing muscles, but like Khan, he was too turned on by now to wait for much longer.

Cock ring in place - he didn't want to get swept along with whatever pheromones the Augment was putting out -, he got in position, bent over Khan's crotch and took the weeping flesh in his mouth.

That was all it took. Khan abruptly arched upwards in an almight thrust, going rigid at its apex. Jim barely managed to move along with him and prevent getting his teeth knocked out, never mind getting choked. Then Khan was coming with a wordless shout and an enormous amount of cum hitting the back of Jim's throat, and for a minute there, Jim was struggling just to stay conscious.

The impromptu asphyxiation, together with the arousing sight and feel of Khan's orgasm, ratched up Jim's need towards breaking point, and he would have come then and there if it weren't for the cock ring. Groaning, he tried to catch his breath and to keep from clutching at himself, while next to him, Khan was writhing slowly, hands opening and closing like the paws of a kitten kneading its mother's teats, panting.

When the impulse to come had passed, leaving behind a sustained hum of frustrated arousal, Jim stretched out alongside Khan, aligning himself with him, threading his fingers through Khan's, feeling the Augment's hands clutch rhythmically at his. Khan's eyes were closed; he was making soft humming noises, and Jim was pretty sure that he wasn't all there yet, probably not noticing what he was doing.

Jim's soft "Okay?" was answered by another deep humming noise, but then Khan focused at least enough to open his eyes and find Jim's. "More," the Augment ground out.

Jim smiled. He loved seeing Khan like this. Besides, his own body was clamoring to get its due. "Then more you shall have." Extricating one hand from Khan's intermittent grasp, he let his fingers find their way towards their goal between the Augment's butt cheeks.

Khan immediately gave an encouraging moan, trying to spread his legs but being prevented by the restraints, and his moan turned into a growl.

Jim was tempted to leave him in this dilemma for a while longer, but his own needs demanded satisfaction. Turning off first one, then the other ankle restraint, he arranged Khan's long legs, bending them, exposing the Augment's butt crack and at the same time taking away the last of his wriggle room before re-activating the restraints.

Khan dragged his eyes open, fixing Jim with a stare that was a strange mixture of surrender and warning. _Don't abuse my trust,_ that look seemed to say.

 _As if I ever would,_ Jim thought. "It's okay," he said out loud.

Then he took his place next to Khan, slicked up his fingers, and proceeded to blast the Augment's remaining shreds of control to bits.

Khan's second orgasm was a matter of a few seconds' touching his prostate, his body squirming and shaking as the sensations peaked, unable to move the way he needed to. Jim felt like the two fingers he still had inside were being squeezed past breaking point as the Augment's muscles contracted in the throes of his release. It clearly left him only momentarily satisfied, his organ never deflating.

"More," Khan growled when he could form words again.

"Hmm," Jim agreed, just barely moving one finger, the one that was on target.

Khan made a noise that was decidedly higher in pitch, trying to move, to fuck himself on those two invading fingers, anything to increase the stimulation. But he had no leverage; his body almost completely immobilized. All he could do was take whatever Jim decided to give him.

"What was that?" Jim asked breathlessly. This was turning him on almost beyond his own control. The power he had over this powerful man in this moment was almost as exciting as the sex itself.

"More," Khan said again, barely intelligible. "Not enough. Need more."

Again, Jim teased him, eliciting another noise, this one with a decided edge of desperation, and Jim felt his own body twitch as a new surge of arousal flooded him. Then, Jim carefully pushed in a third finger, moving his hand just enough before stilling, feeling the channel stretch to accommodate.

Khan made a noise Jim had never heard from him before, mostly a growl, but there also was a shivering note of need, almost a plea.

Jim found himself answering it with a noise of his own. _Oh yes, please. Please... Let me hear you beg. Please._

One finger slowly pressed in and dragged along the hard nub Jim could feel inside Khan's body, stilling immediately when the smooth tissues shifted against hs fingers and the muscles contracted and Khan moaned, and moaned again, and tried and failed to move and get more.

The idea was there in Jim's head with no warning. It almost took his breath away. It was a great idea, possibly the best he'd ever had.

With his free hand, he grabbed the lubricant to generously pour some over his busy hand. Then, carefully, he maneuvered his pinky in there with his other three fingers.

Stilling. Feeling the walls around his fingers stretch even futher. Listering to Khan's increasingly desperate noises. Hearing no discomfort, only frustrated arousal and need.

_Yep. Definitely a great idea._

His thumb was a little harder to get in past the stretched rings of muscle, but he managed. Then he held absolutely still, his fingers up to the knuckles encased in tight heat and slowly shifting smoothness.

Khan had stopped moaning and was instead making a succession of high, thin noises on each exhalation. The way he tried to shift his hips to impale himself futher, though, told Jim that they were still in the green zone.

Digging in his feet and grabbing the bed frame with his free hand, Jim began to push his hand in, slowly, the smoothness clutching at him but forced to give way before his strength; even an Augment unable to prevent this invasion.

Then his whole hand was inside, the sphincter closing around and squeezing Jim's wrist ineffectually. Khan's body had been conquered, and Jim was the one who had done it.

He found the Augment's eyes, doubt assailing him that maybe he'd gone too far, but the look of heated need and wonder in Khan's eyes immediately reassured him. They were still good. This was still good.

"Jim..." Khan breathed, muscles twitching, his whole body now covered with sweat, sleek and glistening.

Jim, who had himself been fisted once before, couldn't help but imagine how Khan must be feeling. The memory of being stretched like that, so open, so vulnerable, was making Jim's poor neglected cock twitch. _Soon_ , he thought at it. _Soon you'll be inside that. It'll be so good._

But he wasn't finished here yet. "Do you want more?" he said softly, holding his hand still, feeling Khan's helpless movements both inside and out.

His response was a breathy moan that might or might not contain a 'yes'.

Jim was feeling generous, so he slowly pulled in his fingers, a little more and a little more, stretching the hot smooth walls of the channel even further, until his fingers formed a fist, with the knuckle of one finger strategically placed against the hard nub of Khan's prostate.

Khan whimpered. Honest to God whimpered. His head was thrown back, his mouth open, panting, all his muscles tense and shivering. Jim's eyes were drawn to the Augment's still untouched cock, nearly purple and swollen, dripping like a leaky faucet between Khan's legs and twitching with each accelerated beat of Khan's heart. Clearly, it would not take much now push him over.

But Jim was still having too much fun to give Khan what he needed. He only gave him the merest hint of a twist of his wrist, incredibly forcing out even more precum and making the Augment whimper again. And still, Khan did not come.

Again and again, Jim edged him closer to release without pushing him over. He felt light-headed with arousal by now, his lungs beginning to seem too small, but he was unable and unwilling to end this. Never before had he felt this way. _I could make him come right now. He's helpless to stop me; he'd just come at the touch of my hand. Or I can continue to keep him from coming, and he can't do anything about that, either. I am in complete control of his body. Mine to please him, mine to keep him wanting._

Right behind that thought, though, another thought followed. _He's been waiting for a really long time now..._

"Jim," Khan's voice came again. "Enough. Enough...!"

Jim was relieved. That still didn't sound like Khan really was in distress. "Want me to let you come?" he asked, teasingly.

"Yes!"

Jim smiled, feeling the power wash through him. "All you have to do is ask nicely."

Khan pulled on the wrist restraints with a shout of need and frustration.

Jim twisted his hand, very gently and very slowly.

"Ah! Pl...z." Khan had turned his head to one side, eyes closed.

Yes! Barely intelligible, but there. Surrender by the unconquerable. And it felt just as he'd hoped it would feel.

Jim was tempted to make him say it again and again because it felt so good to hear it, but decided not to. He had pushed Khan far enough for today.

And himself, too. His arousal was becoming painful. Time to end this.

"Thank you," he said sincerely before moving his fist hard, back and forth, making Khan come spectacularly within seconds. And keeping him coming for almost a whole minute, until the Augment was spent.

Carefully, or as carefully as he was able with his body clamoring at him to get a move on, Jim pulled out his hand. He's probably get a bit of bruising around his wrist. _Will be fun to explain that to Bones._

Hands shaking, Jim took off the cock ring, almost making himself come with the relief. He needed to be inside Khan's body now. He needed to come, now.

Then he had another reason to be grateful for Augment healing, because during the few seconds it had taken Jim to prepare himself, get into position, and enter him, Khan had already recovered from the stretch, feeling as blissfully tight as he had before. And so, it only took Jim less than ten seconds to reach his orgasm, finally.

The force of it nearly made him black out.

Jim collapsed in a sweaty heap atop of Khan, who was making those contented, humming noises that told Jim he had done good. Without opening his eyes, Jim fumbled for the releases of the restraints to click them off, and immediately found himself encased in augmented limbs and snuffled at by an augmented nose.

He had some dim awareness that something monumental had just happened between them, and that they should probably talk about it, but he was too happy, and still too blissed out, to destroy the afterglow with words.

Khan apparently felt the same way. Giving a noise somewhere between a growl and a sigh, the Augment rolled them both onto their sides, still wrapped around each Jim, and settled against him, nose buried in the crook of Jim's neck, clearly not intending to move for the foreseeable future. Jim, still riding the post-orgasmic high, had no issue with this, either. Duty wouldn't call for hours yet. He was warm and comfortable, and being cuddled by the best cuddler in this quadrant of the galaxy. What reason could there possibly be to move? Perfectly content, surrounded by Khan's warmth, he felt himself beginning to doze off.

_But what if he's dead when you wake up?_

The thought was there before Jim could suppress it, and he could feel all the calm drop away from him as his heart started hammering in his chest.

Half a second later, Khan raised his head. Jim could see him cock his head, listening, could hear him draw in air through his nose, trying to determine what had alarmed Jim. Then the Augment's eyes found Jim's, clear and alert, going from near comatose with endorphins to fully battle-ready in an instant. "What?"

Jim sighed. "Nothing. Just a stupid thought."

Khan held his gaze, one dark eyebrow rising marginally. "Indigestion again?"

 _Damn. I knew he wasn't buying that one earlier._ "Well…"

Khan cut off the excuse before Jim could even finish making one up. "Jim. I can tell when you're lying, or at least when you're omitting part of the truth. I won't ask again. What is it?"

Jim gritted his teeth. He should know by now that he wouldn't get out of this, and since his (hopefully unfounded) fears kept upsetting the Augment, he should probably just get it out into the open so they could both deal with it. "Well. As I said, it's a stupid thought. Just something that occurred to me when Bones mentioned the genetic modification thing that might prolong your lifespan." He fell silent. He could still keep from putting thoughts into Khan's head if he left it at that.

"Yes," Khan prompted him.

Jim hesitated.

A pale hand rose to trail fingers across Jim's cheek in a tender caress. "This 'stupid thought' clearly is alarming you enough to increase your heart rate and make you smell of fear, Jim. I won't have that. Alarm is for the battlefield, not for the bed. Tell me."

Jim felt himself grin. Khan's unique mixture of haughtiness and affection never ceased to be adorable to him. "Okay." He took a breath. "I'm afraid that you've got a deadman switch in your genes that will kill you before your time."

Now, both eyebrows rose. "And on what do you base this nebulous supposition, Jim?"

"I know!" Jim said, shifting away a bit so he could properly focus on Khan's remarkable eyes. "I know there's nothing to base it on. It's just a thought that occurred to me. But you've got to admit it's possible. Plausible, even. Those genetic engineers that created you may have put in a kill switch in case something went wrong. After all, they were creating superior people they couldn't expect to contain or control. If someone is deranged enough to fiddle with the human genome in the first place, who's to say they wouldn't go so far as to do something like this?"

Khan briefly looked away. "Oh, they did have ways to contain and control us, Jim."

There was an old pain here, Jim could feel it. But this wasn't the time to dredge it up. "Doesn't make it any less possible."

"Jim." Khan's focus was back on Jim. "Genetic engineering was still very much in its infancy back then. We came to be thanks to happy coincidence and a lot of trial and error. What you are suggesting would have been beyond all existing knowledge or capability."

"You are beyond their then existing knowledge and capability, Noonien."

"I am who I am because it is possible and even fairly easy to 'wake' dormant genes that are already present in the human genome, and to splice in genes existing in other species. The scientists who made us didn't design new genes, they only used and recombined what was already there. I can smell as well as I can because some Earth species can. I'm as strong as I am because insect muscles are more efficient than mammals'. I can use anger to bolster me in battle because humanity's distant ancestors could. I can heal and regenerate because many primitive sea creatures can. And so on. But what you are suggesting would mean designing an entirely new gene, probably even a combination of many new genes, and testing it over and over before it does what it is supposed to do, when it is supposed to. Believe me, they had enough on their plate getting each of us to survive the first six months of our lives as it was. They didn't need to splice in a genetically coded instability."

The images Khan was painting were managing to distract Jim from his dark thoughts. The way Khan put it, maybe it really was nonsense, or at least extremely unlikely. "Can you… can you remember your first six months?" he asked, suddenly unbearably curious.

"Yes," Khan said, sounding puzzled. Jim could practically hear the unvoiced _You mean you can't?_.

Jim snuggled close again, increasingly reassured. "Humans usually can't remember that far back, you know. My earliest memory is from when I was about three."

"I can remember the day I came into the world," Khan said, his deep voice reverberating through Jim's ribcage. Jim couldn't help but notice that he hadn't said the day I was born.

Jim took this as an invitation to pry. "What do you remember?"

"It was cold. Bright. Loud. Confusing. I remember being afraid." His soft voice was monotonous, almost flat. "There were no kind faces or kind voices there, nothing to draw comfort or reassurance from. I remember trying to escape. But, as I said, they had ways of containing us."

"My God." Jim found that his imagination stalled at picturing Khan as a newborn, already aware enough to perceive danger, and coordinated enough to actually try to get away. And it had probably only gone downhill from there. "I'm so sorry. And I'm sorry for dredging it all up. If you don't want to talk about it -"

Khan's arms closed about him and pulled him close. "Jim. They're just memories. They can't hurt me. I prevailed, I learned, I grew strong. Eventually, my makers lost their hold over me. And they're long dead now."

Jim sighed, returning the hug. "True."

A hand ran up and down Jim's back. "Have I vanquished your nebulous supposition?"

"Mhm. For now at least." _By giving me something even more horrible to think about._

"If it comes back, don't let it rule you. It's a ghost. A possibility among an infinity of other possibilities, and as unreal as each one of them. Focus on the things that exist, that you can fight or change."

"Is that how you deal with your 'nebulous suppositions'?" Jim wanted to know, remembering a talk they had had long ago about the many things Khan suspected at all times.

He could feel Khan smile against the skin of his neck. "I prove or disprove mine," the Augment said. "But then, they're usually a lot less nebulous than yours. And a lot more plausible."

Jim fell silent after that, conceding the point. It was nebulous, and implausible.

He hoped.


	2. Chapter 2

"Captain on the bridge."

Jim nodded at Sulu, acknowledging the formality. Then he turned to Spock, who was just vacating the captain's seat. "What'd I miss?"

The Vulcan raised an eyebrow at Jim's sloppy and not at all formal enquiry after the ship's status. "ETA with USS Farragut at the rendezvous point is two hours, seven minutes and forty-three seconds. No other report-worthy incidents."

Well, I wouldn't say that, Jim thought, not even trying to suppress his grin.

The way Spock's other eyebrow rose told Jim that the Vulcan had correctly guessed where that smirk had come from. He kept grinning, daring Spock to make anything of it.

The Vulcan didn't, which didn't come as any sort of surprise. "Have you decided upon a course of action regarding our consultant yet?" Spock asked instead, which did.

"What?" Jim said intelligently. "What course of action?"

"I expect you might have arranged with him to stay out of sight of any visiting Farragut crew," Spock elaborated, "since we have established that Section 31 agents could potentially be anywhere, which includes hiding among the crew of other Federation vessels. Not to mention the fact that Mr. Singh is still a fugitive from Federation jurisdiction whom we have granted asylum on this vessel, but who is still considered a criminal anywhere else in Federation space. No matter what our personal opinions on this matter may be."

Oh yeah, that. Jim hadn't, in fact, arranged anything of the kind. The thought hadn't begun to cross his mind. At some point, Khan's presence aboard had become so familiar and even wanted that he had simply stopped thinking of the Augment as anything other than a member of his team and Very Important Person to him personally. Besides, he'd been busy doing other things that almost made him blush even now.

Which didn't change the fact that Spock, as usual, was right. And it was Khan's safety that was at stake here. "Good point," Jim conceded. "I'll talk to him."

"Might I also suggest that you inform the crew of the necessity of keeping Mr. Singh's presence here secret?"

Jim smiled at him, grateful for the thousandth time for his thoughtfulness and general awesomeness. "I'll do that, too. Mind the bridge for a minute longer, will you?" No way was he having that conversation with Khan where the whole bridge crew could listen in.

Spock merely inclined his head.

 

* * *

 

"I'm not hiding from anyone, least of all from these murderers," Khan's voice hissed at Jim over the intercom. "Let them find me. Let them come at me. When I'm done with them, we'll be rid of them once and for all."

As usual, Khan's not-so-lowkey ferocity elicited complicated feelings of alarm, amusement, and a bit of arousal in Jim. "It's not hiding from them, Noonien," he said soothingly, hand hovering over the elevator's stop/start button. He didn't want to keep hogging the elevator for longer than necessary even though using it like this was a good way of getting some privacy quickly. "It's avoiding drawing attention to you while your legal status is still precarious. You can always go after them once we've sorted all that out. In fact, I'll join you. But right now, the last thing we need is the Federation sending police forces to take you into custody while I'm on a mission and can't do jack shit about it."

The brief silence at the other end of the communication told Jim that his point had landed. "How, precisely, do you intend to 'sort out' my legal status?" Khan finally asked. "Surely you don't intend to submit to court procedures. They can and will be rigged."

Relieved, Jim noted that Khan was no longer arguing against keeping out of sight, which meant that that had gone over better than he'd hoped. "We'll discuss this, and we'll make damned sure you do get out of it. I know some people. But for now, Noonien, please. Stay in your quarters."

"Very well. I would prefer your quarters, though."

"I know. So would I, but I'll have to entertain Captain Garrovick in them at some point, it's kind of expected of me."

"Ah yes. The captain holding court." Jim was relieved to note that Khan's voice had shed its aggressive undertone in favor of its familiar suave cadence. "In that case, you should tell the crew not to mention me. Otherwise this whole endeavor will be futile."

Was everyone about to remind Jim of his duties? "Yes, thank you, I will."

There was a deep sigh at the other end of the line. "How long will I be confined to my quarters, then?"

Jim couldn't help but grin. Khan was sounding so put-upon it was positively adorable. "Well, it's traditional for these kinds of deep-space rendezvous to give crew members from both vessels a chance to spend their watch below aboard the other vessel. That means four shifts, minimum, but it may go on for longer. There will be an officer's dinner hosted by each vessel, and lots of ship's tours conducted by the department heads for their counterparts, and so on and so forth. General mingling and meeting."

"Sounds fun." Now, Khan was sounding as if he were downright pouting. "It'll give me time to brush up on current jurisdiction. And to practice my hand-eye-coordination by throwing paper balls into a cup, or something." Yep, definitely pouting.

Jim couldn't blame him. He had seen him interact with his own crew and was well aware how much the Augment loved being among his "extended family". "Yes, but think of all the curry you'll be able to enjoy once it's over."

"Are you trying to curry my favor, Captain?"

Jim snorted. "Always."

 

* * *

 

Leonard liked rendezvous in general, even the ones taking place between ships in space. Seeing some new faces was always nice, and catching up with old friends he hadn't seen since the Academy was super. What he didn't like so much was the throng of Farragut medical crew parading through his sickbay expressing various degrees of envy about his facilities, but on the upside, he got to talk about some of the near-death scenarios that had taken place here that had come to a happy ending because of his ingenuity, not because he'd had access to all the latest medical toys.

That was when Leonard realized that he couldn't mention the most spectacular last-minute-saves because they all involved Khan. Even with his verbal dexterity, he couldn't quite edit the stories from involving an augmented human whose blood could literally raise the dead to involving merely Leonard's own native skills without getting entangled in a web of improbabilities and contradictions.

It didn't keep him from trying, though.

About an hour later, Leonard was amused to witness Jim in a similar situation. The first of two Officers' dinners, this one taking place aboard the Farragut, was, as usual, a pissing contest between both ships' officers and captains about who had survived the most hairy missions. Jim was stumbling through a recounting of Khan rescuing them from the space organism without mentioning Khan while Garrovick was asking harmless but potentially disastrous questions.

"But shouldn't the shuttle explosion have killed your crewman, Jim? You kinda skipped over that part. We actually had quite a discussion about just that scenario a while ago, and we decided that you can't survive a shuttle explosion in space, even if you're in a suit."

Jim grinned his patented I-don't-believe-in-no-win-scenarios grin. "You've got to ask my Chief Engineer about that one, Stephen. He designed the suit that did, in fact, save Lieutenant Harris's life."

Obligingly, Garrovick turned to Scotty. "I'd be very interested in some details, Mr. Scott."

Scotty threw Jim a look that promised dire retribution before switching on his most winning smile. Leonard actually had trouble keeping a straight face. "Och, yanno," the Scot said with studied humility, "it was really a team effort, and Ah dinna want ta bore ye wit' all the technicalities." He raised his glass. "Here's ta human ingenuity!"

Leonard followed suit, while Spock, seated across from him, raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything.

"He sounds like an interesting guy, your Lieutenant Harris," Garrovick re-took the reins of the conversation once everyone had had a sip of their drink. "Going out in a shuttle alone, knowing you'll stand a good chance of not coming back. Takes some guts."

Jim smiled his, to the Enterprise crew, familiar besotted smile. "Oh, he is."

Leonard hid his grin behind his glass. That would never cease to be adorable.

"I'd like to meet him sometime," Garrovick went on, innocently.

Spock folded his hands in front of him; Jim looked away, pursing his lips; Scotty took a covering sip from his glass, and Leonard looked down to inspect his fingernails. A few seconds of frantic silence ensued.

Leonard was just about to jump in with some bullcrap involving medical quarantine when Jim found his wits. "Well, too late, Stephen. Harris transferred back to Earth three weeks ago. Something about a family emergency."

"Oh," Garrovick said, apparently noting nothing amiss. "Pity."

The Enterprise crew gradually relaxed, and talk drifted into less treacherous territory after that.

 

* * *

 

Jim reached for the door buzzer of Khan's quarters, carefully cupping the softly purring ball of warmth in his other hand.

"Please state your name and the purpose of your visit," the computer told Jim.

Jim frowned in the direction the artificial voice had come from. He was pretty sure that this was something the computer normally didn't do. "Captain Kirk, and none of your business."

"Voice pattern recognized and matched." The door slid open.

Inside, Jim was greeted by the sight of Khan, dressed only in his black pants, visibly relaxing from a fighting stance. "What?" the Augment asked, still tense.

Nonplused, Jim put on a smile. "Nothing, just checking to see how you are."

Khan held out his arms, presenting himself. Jim noticed that his naked upper body was slightly flushed, as if he had been working out. "You are seeing it," Khan said.

It went without saying that Jim quite liked what he saw. "So I am." One fear allayed at least. Khan didn't seem to be crawling the walls with forced inactivity and isolation. He appeared calm and in complete control.

"What's that in your hand?" the Augment asked, nostrils flaring.

Jim held it out. "It's a tribble. Thought I'd bring you something to keep you company."

Curious, Khan stepped closer and carefully scooped the animal out of Jim's palm to inspect it. "It doesn't have eyes."

"Doesn't need any. All it does is eat and breed."

And purr, which was having its intended effect on Khan, who had absently begun to pet the tribble.

Jim watched him, suppressing a smile. "Just don't feed it, or you'll have a dozen more by tomorrow."

Khan threw him a look, a strange expression on his chiseled features. "It's a space gremlin!"

"A what?"

Now Khan smiled. "20th century movie reference. Forget it. Why have you brought me a space gremlin?"

"Told you. To keep you company. Uh… Why was the computer saying to me what it said to me just then?"

Khan was focused on the tribble in his hand, stroking it gently with his other one. Knowing how savage he could be, this tenderness was an incongruous sight. "I added a layer of security by making it identify anyone trying to gain access based on voice pattern. In case a Farragut crew member lost their way. Besides, I was bored, and fiddling with your security gives me something to do."

Jim stared at his bowed head. "You shouldn't be able to 'fiddle' with my security without triggering an alarm."

Now, Khan looked up, an almost evil smile on his face. "I know. Cracking that part provided me with a few minutes' entertainment. Thank you for that."

Jim sighed. "Fine. But for that, I commission you with making sure that nobody else can do the same thing ever again."

"Agreed." With that, the Augment turned his attention back to the tribble.

Jim mentally congratulated himself. Clearly, bringing the animal here had been one of his better ideas. "Are you… are you okay in here, Noonien? Seriously? Do you need anything? Are you sleeping okay?"

Pale blue eyes locked onto his. "Jim. We talked about your tendency to coddle me so often that it begins to bore me. Don't."

Jim stepped close, wrapping his arms around him. "Well, sue me for hating the thought of locking you up in any way."

Thus given leave to follow his own instincts, Khan also wrapped an arm around Jim, his other hand still holding the tribble, and bodily lifted Jim off the ground, one-armed, to carry him to the bed. A minute later, they were both engaging in some serious cuddling, the tribble ending up snuggled into the back of Khan's neck, purring like an engine.

Some part of Jim was glad that nobody was seeing this, even as the rest of him was even more glad he was doing it. He could feel himself relax as both the tribble's purrs and Khan's warmth and proximity began to work their magic. Khan's arms had closed about him, holding him tightly, hands doing their soft massaging against his back, and Jim knew that they would both be either fast asleep or having wild sex in five minutes. "Dammit."

"Hmm?"

"Officers' dinner aboard our ship in ten," Jim mumbled indistinctly. "Need to change uniforms. Need to go."

"Then go," Khan's deep voice rumbled in his chest. "Go and play the diplomat's games, my warrior. Forge allegiance, make allies. You never know what you might need them for."

Jim knew he should be used to it. Khan's whole life, at least the bits that he had had control over, had always been either fighting a war or preparing for the next war. Even now, he didn't do peace well.

Reluctantly, Jim extracted himself from the Augment's hold and warmth. This whole thing would be over soon. Just this one more dinner, a bit of grandstanding, and they could all go back to normal and continue where they left off.

 

* * *

 

Spock was glad, in the limited sense that applied to Vulcans, of being spared the philosophical conundrum of having to decide whether or not he 'liked' socializing during space rendezvous.

Even if he were ever to admit to himself to 'like' anything, he did not think he would feel that emotion for the complicated activities humans seemed to expect from one another at occasions like this. He appreciated culture and custom, and he was well aware that half the things that were currently happening around him had their roots in Earth seafaring tradition and were at least several hundred years old. But that was were his positive attitude ended. This endless string of meetings, eating together, conducting one another through the respective ships' departments, more meetings, and talking, talking, talking … It was all incredibly inefficient. No, he did not think he would like it if he ever allowed his emotions to come to the fore strongly enough to identify them.

And so, Spock was glad - and this was strictly an expression and had nothing to do with emotion - to be away from it all, minding the deserted bridge.

Peace. Quiet. He had just begun to arrange his thoughts into a pleasing pattern designed to achieve a light meditative state without compromising his alertness when all hell broke loose.

He could feel the shock run through the ship even before the sound reached him, a split second before the alarm klaxon began to blare. An explosion, and a substantial one, if the multitude of warning lights on one of the consoles was anything to go by. A quick glance towards the viewscreen showed that the Farragut, too, had been affected by the blast, so its epicenter must lie somewhere between the two vessels. From what he could gather about the force of the explosion from a quick glance at the sensor readouts, Farragut's starboard side and Enterprise's port side both must have suffered structural damage.

"All stations, damage report!" Spock barked into the intercom. "Captain to the bridge!"

Port side! That was where the captain would be at this moment, conducting a tour through engineering…

"Captain Kirk, please come in."

Damage reports were coming in, mainly from stations located towards port. A hull breach. Large areas already or about to be without oxygen. Emergency hatches closing or about to close. Intraship beaming compromised. Multiple casualties among Enterprise and visiting Farragut crew.

Spock felt a frisson of worry and ruthlessly suppressed it. "Captain Kirk, come in!"

 

* * *

 

By the time Khan heard Spock's third call for the captain over the intercom, he was out the door and running.

Adrenalin coursed through him, lending strength to his muscles and alertness to his senses. He did not need to listen to the damage reports over the intercom or the shouts and cries coming from ahead to know where he must go; the acrid smell of burnt plastic and heated metal alloys, together with the characteristic feeling of rapidly dropping pressure told their own story. This was a wounded vessel. Parts of it would have to be sealed off quickly to save the rest of the crew.

One goal of his 'fiddling' with the ship's computer had been enabling him to know where Jim was at all times. He liked to be in the know, even and especially when otherwise cut off from the proceedings. Ship's schematics had long since been imprinted in his memory. Jim would have been right where the main brunt of the explosion had occurred, now seconds away from being cut off by the closing emergency hatches, probably injured.

This smelled of deliberate sabotage. As soon as Khan got his hands on the perpetrator, there would be hell to pay.

But all thoughts of revenge would have to be postponed until Jim was safe. The air was getting thin; Khan took a deep breath and another one, saturating his blood with what little oxygen was left, and then he stopped breathing.

He would either rescue Jim, or never breathe again.

Around a corner, through a door stuck halfway in the act of closing that easily yielded to his shove, around another corner, and past the next emergency hatch, thankfully still open. Sight now compromised by smoking bulkheads, flames extinguished by the lack of air but still hot even as the evaporating atmosphere was getting very, very cold.

And there was Jim, lying motionless on the floor, surrounded by three equally unmoving Farragut crew members, all Engineering from their uniforms.

Sliding to a halt next to Jim, Khan took in the blood, the positions of the men and women, and realized that Jim must have been caught in the blast and lost consciousness trying to help when the air became too thin.

The hatch was thirty yards away, probably about to close any second. Without thinking, Khan grabbed Jim, slung him over his shoulder, and ran. He would come back for the others if there was time. Jim was his top priority.

Even his augmented lungs were beginning to protest their need to breathe when he felt Jim cough and struggle abruptly in his arms. Of course Jim would choose this moment to regain consciousness and impede his own rescue. Reluctantly, Khan let go of him, putting him on the floor and holding him upright while he got his bearings, aware of each precious second ticking away. As soon as Jim realized what was happening and stopped fighting him, Khan would pick him up again and continue.

A klaxon blared, and the hatch began to close.

They were too far away from it to make it running, even for an Augment, even if they were both fit. Khan didn't hesitate. Grabbing Jim, who was looking around in confusion, clearly affected by the lack of oxygen and the effect of his injuries, he bodily lifted and threw him in the direction of the descending hatch door.

While Jim was still airborne, Khan followed, running full-out, Jim landing hard and sliding underneath the hatch, barely clear.

Giving a roar that used up the rest of his air, Khan leaped, throwing himself towards the closing hatch, knowing even as he did so that he would not make it.

It did not matter. Jim was clear. Jim was safe.

 

* * *

 

The bridge was in controlled chaos. All officers had left their various rendezvous activities to man their stations. Uhura was coordinating the reports coming in from all over both vessels. Spock did his best not to let his emotions affect him. Worrying would serve no purpose.

Meanwhile, a picture was emerging. A full-spectrum analysis indicated that the explosion had been caused by an antimatter bomb. What security forces could be spared had been ordered to look for whoever was behind it. The Farragut's damage was extensive; she would have to be towed to the nearest dry dock for repairs. Enterprise was still space worthy, due to her more sturdy construction. The crew would be able to effect repairs with onboard resources.

Dozens of people dead and injured on both ships. Three Farragut crew members found sucked out into space, dead. Captain Kirk still missing. But at least, he had not been among them, even though they had all been on the tour through Engineering together. Mr Scott, by a happy coincidence, had not been in the vicinity when the bomb detonated, having taken a detour to prepare a demonstration of their newly improved sensor array.

The fact that Noonien Singh had left his quarters seemed, amidst all the tragedy, only of minor importance, except Spock currently attached all his hopes to that fact.

Almost fifteen minutes after the explosion had occurred - fourteen minutes fifty-two seconds later, to be precise -, sickbay reported that the captain had been found.

"He's suffered a concussion and multiple contusions and a broken rib or two, but he's gonna be fine," Dr. McCoy said, to Spock's hastily suppressed but disturbingly enormous relief. "The hatch closing in time saved him from suffocating."

"I see," Spock said, realizing what must have happened. "Can you explain his presence beyond that hatch, when the rest of the tour participants clearly found themselves too far away from it when it closed?"

"Oh yeah, I can," Dr. McCoy said with a familiar long-suffering undertone in his voice that confirmed Spock's suspicions before he began his explanation. "Our consultant brought him out. Oh, and in case you're looking for him, he's also here, currently re-growing his leg."

 


	3. Chapter 3

_Well,_ Leonard McCoy silently groused, _I suppose it's too late for me to tell you not to make a habit of this. This makes, what, the sixth time I'm having the dubious honor of your presence in here. Not that I do, in fact, know what to do with you, mind you. I'm merely watching you heal yourself and cheering you on from the sidelines. And I gotta admit, it is pretty spectacular. But it does make me feel just a tiny bit superfluous. Not that I'm complaining. If it were up to me, I'd've probably had to watch you die each fucking time you were in here. But it's beginning to get old by now, you know. Can we, maybe, make an agreement that this is the last time? No? Didn't think so...._

The object of Leonard's silent tirade remained stubbornly unconscious through all of this mental fuming. Khan was worryingly pale due to substantial blood loss - turned out even Augments couldn't close traumatic wounds caused by having a leg cut off fast enough to prevent bleeding out a little, even if they clearly didn't suffer from shock as much as a normal human would have.

Despite his unspoken ranting, Leonard had done what he could. Once he'd gotten over his own shock of seeing Khan lying on the floor, still conscious, cradling an unmoving Jim against one leg and pinching the vein in his other leg closed by reaching right into the stump with his free hand, Leonard had let his medical training take over. A saline infusion had helped with replacing the serum volume Khan had lost. His leg - what remained of it, what with it having been cut off mid-thigh - was encased in a regenerative prosthesis that would hopefully give the regrowing stump protection and all the nutrients it needed to regenerate the lost limb.

From the medical information Khan had given him a while ago, Leonard had concluded that there would be no use giving him O-negative or indeed any other blood to replace the precious Augment blood that was at this moment, Leonard supposed, still forming an impressive puddle on this side of the sealed emergency hatch - and, come to think of it, on the far side as well. Where most of Khan's cut off leg still was. Possibly trying to regenerate the rest of Khan....

_Nah, stop it. He's not a polyp. You can't make two of him by cutting him in half down his middle._

Despite the seriousness of the situation, Leonard snorted at his thoughts.

Soft as the sound was, it still was sufficient to cause his patient to startle out of his unconscious state and look around wildly.

"Hey," Leonard said gently, used by now to Khan's reaction to finding himself in a medical laboratory. "It's all right, you're safe, you're still aboard the Enterprise."

Pale aquamarine eyes focused on him. "Where's Jim? How is he?"

 _Oh. Not worried for himself. Worried for Jim._ "He's in the main ward, Noonien. He'll be okay. You saved him."

The look of relief in Khan's eyes was almost heartbreaking even for someone as cynical about these things as Leonard. "How're you feeling? Are you in pain?" When Leonard put the regen unit on, the leg stump had stopped bleeding, giving an unobstructed view on torn tissue and fractured bone. Frankly, Leonard could not imagine the pain being anything but excruciating.

"I'll live," Khan replied curtly.

"Not what I was asking," Leonard grumbled. "I know you'll live. The question was, are you in pain?"

More unblinking staring. "My question is, what would you do about it if I was?"

Times like these, Leonard felt he deserved a medal for being possessed of saintly patience. "In your case, nothing, obviously, 'cause nothing would have any effect, what with your crazy augmented biology. I was asking as a concerned friend."

"In that case, there is some residual discomfort, but the acute pain has stopped."

"Oh. Good. Otherwise, how are you feeling? Do you need anything? Jim said something about you being hungry back on that not-really-medieval planet when you lost your hand. I've got all sorts of nutrient drinks on standby."

The Augment blinked slowly. "That would be... appreciated."

"So, hungry," Leonard followed up on that, digging even deeper into the well of his famous physician's patience. "What else?"

"Tired, if you must know."

"Then, sleep. Things are under control."

Instead of listening to that perfectly sound advice, Khan took another look at his surroundings, taking in the single bed, the walls full of monitors, all the emergency medical equipment. Then he looked down at himself and at the leg regen prosthesis. He frowned. "You know very well that I don't need any of this. Tell me what's going on."

Leonard smiled wrily. He should have known by now that Khan, like all military types, wouldn't be satisfied with anything less than a complete sitrep before even considering going to sleep. "Okay, here's the thing. There was an explosion. Both ships were damaged. There was a lot of injuries and casualties."

Khan nodded, making a get-on-with-it gesture.

"Nothing I can do for the casualties without raising a lot of questions," Leonard went on. "The injured are in the main ward, Jim among them. Whoever caused the explosion is still at large, as far as I know. Security from both ships is looking for them. There's been a steady stream of visitors and well-wishers from both ships parading in and out since it happened. I figured I'd keep you out of sight in the ICU until that dies down, but in case somebody does drop in, I put that thing on you to hide the injury. I reckon it won't help much with your leg regrowing, but neither will it do any harm."

Khan nodded. "I see." He paused, then, "... Jim?"

Leonard hid his smile. When they'd first taken Khan aboard, he'd never in a million years expected to find the Augment adorable, ever. _Oh God, maybe whatever Jim's got is catching_... "He'll be fine. Concussion, contusions, three broken ribs, which I've repaired. A few aftereffects of hypoxia. I'm keeping him here for observation until those and the concussion clear."

"Do you want some of my blood?" No hesitation, just a matter-of-fact reaction to a perceived crisis.

For a moment, Leonard was distracted by the realisation that, to Khan, who could recover from anything, even death, and heal most anything within a few hours or days at most, humans had to be these ridiculously fragile beings who constantly needed to sleep and eat to be efficient, and who took weeks or even months to heal from severe injuries, or sometimes even never recovered from them completely. Was it any wonder that Khan would be so protective of Jim now?

"You've lost enough of your blood as it is, Noonien," Leonard finally said gently. "'Sides, us normal humans aren't that fragile. He'll be perfectly fine on his own."

"But he'd heal faster."

"A little suffering is good for the soul," Leonard returned one of his favorite tenets. "We couldn't learn from our mistakes if we never felt their consequences."

That earned him a surprised look. "True, but Jim didn't make any mistake. He was a victim in a deliberate act of sabotage. He shouldn't have to suffer because of acts not his own. Also, there is a saboteur or group of saboteurs either aboard this vessel or aboard the Farragut, or even possibly spread out on both vessels. Jim needs to be able to take command, and fast, before they act again and reach their objective."

That sounded so reasonable that Leonard was tempted to take Khan up on his offer. In the end, he was saved from making that decision by the computer informing him that Captain Garrovick was there to see Jim. "Excuse me," he said to Khan, turning to go.

"Throw him out," Khan said curtly. "He shouldn't keep Jim from his rest."

It was one of those times when Leonard didn't know whether to be irritated or amused. "Noonien, I can't do that."

"Why not? It's your sickbay. You are the sovereign here. He will bow to your command, surely."

"Noonien, for one thing, he outranks me, and for another, he's just here to pay a courtesy visit, not to do Jim any harm!"

Khan raised an eyebrow and lowered his voice. "Jim needs rest now. If you won't evict Garrovick, I will."

Leonard threw a pointed glance at the regen leg. "Apart from the fact that there's a high probability you'll fall over as soon as you get vertical, we're keeping you out of sight of the Farragut crew, remember? Also, how do you plan on walking out there on one leg? Even the regen unit can't give you enough support for actual walking."

Khan didn't reply. Instead he had cocked his head and was staring to the side, clearly listening. "He's talking to Jim. Jim should be sleeping. He's got a concussion of the brain. He shouldn't be forced to talk." His voice now was so low he was practically growling.

And then, to Leonard's complete surprise, the Augment swung his legs, prosthesis and all, off the bed and rose to his feet. Well, foot. Balancing on one leg, growing alarmingly pale, but staying upright.

Instinctively, Leonard put out a hand to steady him. "Stop that, Noonien," he hissed at the Augment despite his action, and better knowledge. "Lie back down, dammit. You're in no shape for this kind of acrobatics. You just lost a leg, dammit. Even you need a bit to recover from that."

Breathing deeply, growing even paler by the second, Khan merely glared at him.

Leonard threw up his free hand. "Okay, fine. I'll go talk to Garrovick. But only if you lie back down this instant."

The Augment sat down on the bed with a lack of resistance that Leonard found both gratifying and worrying.

"He's my friend, too, you know," he said gently. "I won't let him come to harm, okay? You relax and concentrate on healing."

Khan was glaring at his leg as if its state was a personal affront, but he finally looked up, nodding curtly. "Very well. Go, then."

Leonard raised a finger. "You're not lying down."

More glaring, this time directed at Leonard. Then, making it appear that he was not, in fact, about to lose consciousness with a skill that Leonard found admirable, the Augment carefully lay back, folding his hands on his stomach. "Satisfied? Now, go."

By way of getting some of his own back, Leonard grabbed one of the nutrient shakes and put it in the Augment's hand and before he went, feeling like he had just won a major victory.

Outside, he found Garrovick seated with one hip on Jim's bed, in soft conversation with its occupant. They both looked up when Leonard allowed the ICU ward door to slide shut behind him, Jim craning his neck to catch a glimpse of Khan over Leonard's shoulder.

Feeling like Khan might, at any second, decide to come hobbling out here after all to take matters in his own hands if he didn't hurry, Leonard went right in medias res. "Sir," he said to Garrovick, "I must ask you to leave now. My patient needs rest."

"Nonsense, 'm fine," Jim slurred, giving Leonard a slightly dopey smile that proved, more than anything else, that he wasn't. On the upside, it also proved that the painkillers were working.

"Sure you are," Leonard said. "Pity you're the only one here who thinks so." He said that last bit with a significant look at the door to the ICU, which Jim missed completely. Sighing, Leonard turned back to Garrovick. "Captain, if you please."

"Oh, sure thing, Doctor," Garrovick said easily. "I'll be back later, Jim. Get some rest."

"Don't wanna rest," Jim pouted. "'S boring in here alone." His face brightened as a thought struck. "Bones, can you wheel Noonien out here to keep me company?"

Leonard gave him a sharp grimace and added cut-throat motions as soon as Garrovick was looking the other way, but it was obvious that the painkillers were not just working, but working a little too well. Hoping like hell that Garrovick wouldn't catch on, Leonard loudly said, "Nice of you to drop in, Captain, and do let me know if I can assist your medical people in any way, will you?"

"Will do," Garrovick said, giving Jim a quizzical look.

"Bo-ones," Jim was whining, "I want my Augm- -"

"See you, Captain," Leonard said in a desperate attempt to drown him out.

"And you, Doctor. And Jim, we're not finished here." With that, Garrovick left, leaving Leonard in relative confusion and a sense of foreboding.

"Jim!" hissed Leonard as soon as the door had safely slid shut. "You're not supposed to mention Khan to the Farragut crew, remember?"

"Oh yeah," Jim said, sounding completely and unsurprisingly unrepentant. "Well, too late, I already did."

Leonard rolled his eyes. "So I heard. Let's hope he didn't put two and two together."

Jim actually managed to focus on Leonard. "No, Bones, I meant I told him. Everything. Well, not quite everything."

"Jim! Are you out of your mind? What happened to Section 31 being everywhere?"

"I know. I had to. He asked me point-blank how I got out when the rest of his crew didn't." He did an admirable but futile job of trying to suppress a yawn. "Also, there were medical people from the Farragut among those that found us before you got there. Well, at least one of them was from Farragut. Bones, it's out. They saw Khan with his leg cut off, lying there in a puddle of blood and still telling people what to do instead of passing out like a normal person. I remember that bit, even if everything else is kind of a blur." He gave a funny, sad smile.

Leonard didn't say anything except for a soft "Fuck." Well, they had known that they wouldn't be able to keep Khan hidden away on their ship forever. These things had a habit of leaking out. And if it hadn't happened like that, it would have another way. Someone transferring off ship not keeping their mouth shut, someone mentioning something to their relatives... or, as it happened, someone from off-ship witnessing Khan in action. "Well, I suppose we'll deal with the fallout when it, well, falls out."

"I want to see Noonien. Please, Bones." Jim switched on his puppy-dog look. "The last time I saw him, he was trying not to scream in agony. I need to see with my own eyes that he'll be all right. And you know how hard it is for him to relax in here, alone. Besides, it's all moot now anyway."

Leonard sighed. "Seems so, yeah. So, before the next visitor comes in, what exactly did you tell Garrovick?"

"The truth, pretty much. His name is Noonien Singh, and he's a civilian who was politically persecuted in his home, so we granted him asylum." As he talked, Jim closed his eyes, obviously, to Leonard's professional eyes, suffering from a headache, but his voice wasn't slurring quite so badly anymore, which was something. "Bones, I'm sick and tired of him saving the ship and the crew over and over and not getting any recognition for it. He's a hero, not a monster. He deserves being able to live a normal life. We'll get him rehabilitated. This is the first step."

The first thing out of Leonard's mouth was, "Are you crazy, Jim? Even if Section 31 doesn't get their hands on him first, Starfleet'll convict him for being a criminal as soon as they get him into custody! If he's lucky, he won't get killed on the spot!"

Jim winced. "Not now, Bones. We'll talk about this, but not now. Just let me see him. Please."

 

* * *

 

_Finally._

The door of the ICU slid closed behind them as Bones, quite clearly tired of Jim's whining, was wheeling Jim's bed next to where Khan was lying in his, regarding the maneuver placidly.

 _God, he's pale._ As soon as Jim's bed had reached its final position, he reached out a hand to grab a hold of one of Khan's. "Are you okay?"

Long, slim fingers closed about Jim's with easy acceptance of comfort given and received. "No, but I will be," the Augment said with the brutal honesty that characterized him. "You?" A world of worry lay in that one word.

Jim was still feeling dizzy and weak, and with Khan's example to follow, he could even be honest about that, although he'd rather have undergone a root canal than admit any of it to Bones. "Tired. Headache. Head's kinda slow," he said, racking up his best smile. Honest, yes. Needlessly worrying Khan, no.

Khan returned the smile, looking visibly more relaxed now than he had when Jim first caught sight of him, albeit noticeably tired. "Then rest. Go to sleep. I won't let anyone disturb you anymore."

"I will, later. First, how's your leg?" Jim still remembered the ridiculously delicate regrowing hand and wondered what the currently regenerating leg might look like.

Khan nodded at the regen unit encasing his leg. "It's well protected. If completely useless otherwise, this thing at least keeps my leg safe from... impacts."

"Good." And another thing Jim remembered - the way Khan had craved food when his hand was regrowing. "Are you hungry?"

"Not anymore." An eyebrow raised in the direction of the bedside table drew Jim's attention to a line of empty bottles. "Quite bland, but nutritious."

"Good," Jim said again, finally allowing the yawn out that he'd been suppressing for what felt like hours.

The grip on his hand tightened briefly, then relaxed, but did not let go. "If Garrovick has tired you even slightly, he will answer to me."

Jim felt his lips stretch into a genuine smile. "No, Khan, no slaying the nice captain," he admonished, trying his best not to slur his words too much. "He was there on ship's business. Needs must, an' all that."

Shifting onto his side to face Jim, Khan pulled the artificial leg prosthesis into position with his hands. Clearly, the little leg stump that was growing in there did not have any strength yet. Settled, Khan regarded Jim softly. "The bomber, or bombers," he said calmly.

Jim suppressed a yawn. "Hmm. Making plans to draw 'em out. I kinda told him to just send you after 'em. Don't know what made me do that. Anyway, Farragut crew saw you, so he asked the obvious questions. Noonien, I told him about you."

Aquamarine eyes widened in astonishment and a little apprehension.

"No, not everything, don't worry. But then, I figured we're going to tell people about you sooner or later anyway, if we're going to rehabilitate you, so... He knows your name, your real name, and that you sought asylum here, and that you saved my life. He doesn't know what you are, though. I wanted to leave that to you. But, Noonien, I think the time for secrecy is past."

Khan regarded him in silence for a while, a succession of expressions chasing each other across his face - determination, anger, apprehension -, before pulling Jim's hand to his face and burying it in Jim's palm. "I don't want to lose this," Jim heard him whisper fiercely, feeling his lips move against the skin of his palm before Khan raised his head to look at Jim once more. "If we're doing this, then your justice system will require me to suffer some sort of punishment for what happened in San Francisco, and for my attack on the Kelvin Memorial Archive. Whatever defense you or your allies mount, I will not go free. That much is certain. At the very least, I'll be incarcerated for a while. At worst, they will find me guilty of mass murder and lock me up for life. Or they may decide I am too dangerous to be kept in captivity while being conscious, so they will put me in cryostasis again. In any case, I will lose this, possibly permanently."

By then, Jim had to struggle to keep awake. "We'll find a way, Noonien. Mitigating circumstances, and all that. Whatever Marcus did to you. To your people. The whole Section 31 thing. There's all sorts of things that a good lawyer can bring up. I promise that those aren't your only options. 'Sides, Garrovick's a good man. You told me to go and make allies, so I did. He'll help us." He raised his hand and gently moved his fingers against Khan's cheek. "You won't lose this, and neither will I."

Khan made a brief soft sound of pleasure, so incongruous considering what he was, and yet so familiar and even expected by now for one who knew him well. "I will defer to your judgement, Jim," he said softly, before raising his head to look at Jim quizzically. "Now I'm the one keeping you from your rest. I'm sorry. Sleep, my warrior. Let me watch over you for a change."

"'M not tired," Jim protested, but he knew it was a losing battle when he realized that he couldn't keep his eyes open any longer.

"I know," came Khan's soft voice. Strong arms encased him, cradled him close to familiar warmth and the reassuring sound of a strong, steady heartbeat, and it was the only thing Jim heard for a while.

 

* * *

 

_Well, isn't this sweet._

Leonard was glad that nobody really needed the ICU for any, you know, actual life-saving right now, because this certainly wasn't its intended purpose; to give the two most obnoxious lovebirds of Leonard's current acquaintance some privacy for cuddling.

They were lying curled around each other, both sound asleep, or had been at least until the moment the door opened. Now, Khan was awake, eyes open, regarding Leonard calmly but not making any other move except for a brief tightening of his arms around Jim, who continued to sleep like the dead.

 _Go back to sleep,_ Leonard mouthed at him, trying not to let the adoring grin that was bubbling underneath reach his face.

After a moment, Khan closed his eyes. Leonard, looking at the Augment's brain activity on his monitors, was surprised to actually watch him fall asleep seconds later, despite Leonard being there moving about, despite being in a medical environment. Something that would have been impossible a month ago.

 _Welcome aboard, you savage remnant from a time long past,_ Leonard thought. _Guess you really finally have come home._

 

* * *

 

Stephen Garrovick was not normally a man stuck on protocol. Nor was he a particular stickler for rules and regulations. And thus, he certainly wouldn't be the first man to criticize Jim Kirk for his actions when it came to something as minor as allowing a civilian to stay on his vessel for an extended period of time without notifying Starfleet Command.

At least, that was the explanation Stephen had come up with for what Jim had to be doing here when he became aware of the secrecy surrounding Mr. Noonien Singh - an unnotified passenger that Jim was, for some reason, allowing to come along on a potentially dangerous journey into uncharted space. The Enterprise was a research and exploration vessel - danger was part of the job. Civilians, if forced by circumstance to come aboard such a vessel, usually were required to leave again as soon as possible on the nearest possible planet or starbase, for their own protection. They usually didn't stay on for months on end, politically persecuted or not.

And they certainly didn't interfere with the rescue of the captain of said research and exploration vessel to the point of risking their own life. Or made confirmed chaser of everything that moved Jim Kirk suddenly indifferent to the appeal of all sexes.

Needless to say that Stephen's curiosity was piqued. And so, he made it his business to come back to the Enterprise sickbay as soon as he could make up an excuse to.

"You can't see him," the Enterprise's surgeon told Stephen as soon as the sickbay door had closed behind him. "He's fast asleep, which is pretty much a miracle, and I'm not risking you waking him up. Sir."

"I'm not here for Jim Kirk," Stephen said.

Leonard McCoy sighed. "I was afraid of that. Well, he's asleep as well. Sorry, Sir."

Stephen smiled. He recognized a good man when he saw one. "Don't worry, Doctor, I won't disturb him - either of them. All I want is have a look at the man who saved a Starfleet captain's life, and who had such an effect on that captain that said captain never once flirted with my First Officer the way he normally would have done, if I know my Jim Kirk, which I think I do."

Dr McCoy opened his mouth to reply when the door to the ICU opened behind him, cutting him off.

The man who stepped out, Stephen realized, could only be the mystery passenger. Broad-shouldered, slim and tightly but not excessively muscled, the man moved with a controlled poise belying his pronounced pallor. If it weren't for the regenerative leg prosthesis covering his entire left leg and the evidently hobbling gait caused by it, Stephen would not have believed that the man was here as a patient. "Captain Garrovick, I presume," he said in a surprisingly deep, velvety voice, using the precise diction and clipped consonants that were prevalent on the British Isles. "If you are here for Captain Kirk, he is unavailable."

"So I've heard," Stephen said evenly, nodding at McCoy.

"Good," the man said with a peculiar motion of his upper lip that almost made it seem as if he had been about to bare his teeth. "I won't allow you to disturb him. However, I would speak with you."

Stephen nodded, impressed by the fierce protectiveness. Clearly, the affection Jim had shown for this man went both ways. Added to that, the charisma and self-confidence the man oozed made up a very formidable whole, making it very hard to believe that he was just an ordinary man. "I'm Stephen Garrovick, captain of the USS Farragut. And you must be the man we have to thank for the fact that Jim Kirk is still among the living, from what I understand."

"Noonien Singh," the man replied, keeping his light blue eyes fixed on Stephen with unblinking intensity. "I regret that the time was too short to rescue your crew as well, Captain. Also, I found myself unable to proceed." He nodded down at the prosthesis. "But that is not what I wish to talk about. Have you made any progress towards identifying the attacker, or attackers?"

"Security from both ships are working on it," Stephen said before remembering that maybe it wasn't protocol to discuss ship's matters with a civilian.

"You might start by investigating how the bomb came to be," Singh went on, unaware of Stephen's inner conflict. "Antimatter, I believe? Surely not easy to come by for just any crew. I submit that the bomber is part of the engineering staff of your ship, Captain. They have access to antimatter as a matter of course."

Against his better knowledge, Stephen bristled at this implied slight against his crew. "And why don't you suspect the engineering staff of this vessel?"

"Because," Singh said, biting off each word as if it had offended him, "I know them."

Stephen raised his eyebrows. Before he could find the words to express his general lack of understanding for this line of reasoning, McCoy, who had listened without commenting, butted in. "I suggest you just accept that, Captain. I generally find it's easier when he gets like this."

"You mean you realize that it's useless to engage me in battle, even verbally," Singh said, turning to the surgeon with a peculiar light in his eyes.

"I mean you're a stubborn son-of-a-bitch, Noonien," McCoy returned, sounding less grumpy than his words would made it seem.

Singh inclined his head. "Coming from you, Leonard, I'll take that as a compliment."

Stephen realized that this would continue for a while if he didn't put a stop to it, amusing as it was. "Gentlemen, if we could we get back to the bomber, please...?"

Singh turned back to him, but before he could say anything, McCoy grabbed Singh's elbow with one hand and pulled a chair right into his personal space with the other. "You shouldn't be up and about. Sit down, dammit, before you fall down."

For some reason, Stephen expected a violent reaction, but it failed to materialize. Instead, Singh gave a wry grimace and sat down with a meekness that seemed somehow uncharacteristic. "The bomber is part of the crew of your vessel, Captain," he said, stretching out the leg prosthesis by moving it with his hands. "I have no doubt about that. I suggest you go on this assumption as well; anything else would be a waste of time."

 _This man is an admiral, at least_ , Stephen realized. This was the manner of one used to command and not have his command questioned. Only those high up the food chain ever cultivated this kind of attitude. And once you had it, you never quite lost it.

He responded instinctively. "I'll let security know," he said, barely keeping himself from ending the sentence with 'Sir'.

"Good, fine, excellent," the surgeon interjected, grumpiness now fully in force. "Now that that's cleared up, can my patient-" he glared at Singh - "kindly get his ass back to his bed so he can fully heal? That would be ever so lovely." The attempt at mimicking an English accent fell flat, but the intent was clear.

"We're still at war, Leonard," Singh returned, ignoring the ribbing. "There is no rest on the battlefield."

"Maybe," Stephen found himself saying, "but it's perfectly fine and even standard procedure to let the second shift take over while the first shift gets back its strength."

That earned him a look of surprised acknowledgement that Stephen returned by raising his eyebrows. He, too, was a captain, and no way would he let a civilian - or whatever he was - forget that.

"You've earned your rest," he added gently. "I'm at least as interested in clearing this up as you are, as Jim Kirk is. He and I go way back, by the way. I'm grateful for what you did."

Singh hesitated.

"Oh, for chrissakes," the surgeon said, "just because you think you're ambulant thanks to that gadget, you still have sustained catastrophic trauma to your leg. You can't run around chasing bombers. Sit this one out. People are on it. If Jim were here, he'd say the same thing."

"Very well," Singh finally said, prompting the doctor to give a theatrical sigh of relief. The man rose to his feet, nodded at Stephen, and walked back into the ICU, straight-backed and limping only slightly.

There was a pause. At last, Stephen Garrovick looked at the doctor, unable to suppress his feelings any longer. "Where did you find him, and can I get one, too?"

McCoy gave a sad smile. "'Fraid not, Captain. He's the only one left."

"Oh?"

"Long story, and one he should tell you himself."

 

* * *

 

Jim felt himself drift awake when the mattress next to him dipped and something soft and warm touched his neck.

He smiled, keeping his eyes closed. That touch meant safety, familiarity, love. Allowing his head to fall to the side, he could feel soft strands of hair tickle his cheek. Warm rhythmic puffs of air against his neck began to lull him back to sleep.

But first... "Where've you been?"

Lips moved against the place where the breaths ghosted. "Slaying nice captains," came Khan's whisper, "and aggravating old country doctors."

"Mmmh," Jim replied, stretching a little, feeling himself wrapped up in strong arms. "Nice schedule."

"Your friend Garrovick is a worthy ally," Khan said, running his hand up and down Jim's shoulder and chest in a soothing motion. "I decided to let him live."

Jim snorted.

"How are you, Jim?"

Jim considered. Since Khan was here, he was feeling much better, but that went without saying. "Well... I must admit I'm not too keen on getting upright yet."

Lips touched his neck. "Then don't."

There was some fidgeting next to him. One arm moved away, and something clicked and hissed.

Curious, Jim opened one eye.

With a grimace of relief, Khan had removed the leg prosthesis, massaging his upper thigh where it had been fastened to his body. Lower, Jim could briefly see the stump, very pink, glistening, before Khan wrapped a soft cloth around it.

"How long till that regrows?"

Khan lay back down, wrapping his other arm back around Jim. "About a week, maybe ten days. I haven't had to regenerate an entire leg for a while."

Jim wanted to ask about the last time but didn't. It probably involved a lab, and experimentation, and pain; things best not remembered. Better to remember life, and comfort, and joy. "Thank you for saving my life," he said softly, "again."

Khan yawned. "Hmm. Don't thank me for doing things I can't help doing."

Smiling, Jim kissed the skin that was touching his lips. "Go to sleep. I don't want to see you awake again until that leg's grown at least a couple inches."

"Only if you go to back sleep as well and don't wake up until your head is fine again."

"Deal."

 

* * *

 

Leonard should have realized that providing Khan with the leg regen unit would prove to be not without consequence. It gave the Augment a freedom of movement that he otherwise wouldn't have had for many days yet, and he used it fully. A few liters of nutrient shake and a few hours sleep had advanced his healing enough to enable him to join the search for the bombers. Though he frequently returned to sickbay to check on Jim's recovery, he clearly relished the end of his confinement, to the point of even accepting Garrovick's invitation to accompany him to the Farragut.

All this, Leonard only learned through various channels, the most important one being Garrovick himself.

"Your Mr. Singh has found the bomber," the Farragut captain was telling Jim, still in sickbay, as he was visiting his friend, with Leonard listening in while checking Jim's progress. "Damnedest thing. I was just showing him Engineering - by the way, he knows an awful lot about warp engines, Jim, just don't let Starfleet catch you giving all that classified info to civilians -, anyway, we had just passed Lieutenant DiNovio in the hallway when, I didn't even see it coming, Singh just grabs the guy by his throat and tells him not to move. No provocation, no word exchanged, nothing. Out of the blue. When I demand to know what the hell he thinks he's doing, he tells me ever so calmly that DiNovio is a Klingon."

Jim, who had listened to all this with a slight smile on his face, found room to butt in at this point. "Klingon. Huh. Figures."

Garrovick looked at him. "'Figures'? That's it? No other comment?"

"Hmm? Oh, no, he does that. Noonien does. He knows when people aren't... people." He frowned. "That didn't come out right. Not saying Klingons aren't people. I meant, Noonien can smell this sort of thing."

Garrovick shook his head. "Yeah, something like that, anyway, because turned out he was right. A Klingon. Right among my crew, almost from day one. Passed all the exams. Nobody ever suspected a thing. And Singh just walks past him in the hallway, and, game over."

"Yeah." Now, Jim was smiling the familiar besotted smile that made Leonard shake his head ruefully. "He does that. He, uh, met a few Klingons a while back, and now he can recognize them in passing, literally."

"You seem to get quite a few interesting people on your ship, Jim," Garrovick said. "First this mysterious Lieutenant Harris, and now.... Wait a minute. Jim."

Jim raised his eyebrows in his most innocent expression, even batting his ridiculously blue eyes once for effect. It nearly made Leonard snort in amusement.

Garrovick frowned at Jim. "Don't give me that, Jim. Singh and Harris are one and the same, right?"

"You got me, Stephen."

Leonard bit his lip. This was it - the moment when Jim would let Garrovick know. The moment that would, looking back, either mark the turning point towards when things either went spectacularly sideways, or the first step towards Khan's redemption.

JIm looked Garrovick in the eye. "Lieutenant Harris never existed, Stephen. That was just a rank and name I gave you when you wouldn't stop asking questions. It's been Noonien Singh all along. He saved the ship that time, and yes, he survived the shuttle explosion because of what he is, not because of any space suit he was wearing. I owe him for saving my ship, and the lives of dozens of my crewmen, and my own, several times. And now you owe him for giving you the identity of a Klingon spy aboard your ship. Just let him spend a week with you, and you'll find yourtself owing him your life, too, and possibly your ship."

Garrovick snorted. "I can believe that, Jim. So, to recap, you got yourself in trouble again, and then you decided that your best course of action is getting yourself even deeper into trouble."

Jim leaned forward in his bed. "I'm trying to do the best I can for a man who's been wronged repeatedly, and whom history has painted wrong, and who's been accused of crimes he hasn't committed, Stephen. A good, noble, honorable man. A man I'm proud to call my friend. And, yes, if defending that man will get me in trouble, then I'll gladly go there."

"I can see that," Garrovick said again. He sighed, his face showing a mixture of affection and exasperation that Leonard was intimately familiar with. "Okay. I want the whole story."

 

* * *

 

It took a while. At first, Jim and Bones took turns telling the story of how a genetically augmented warlord from another time had found himself seeking asylum aboard the Enterprise. Then Khan found time from helping with repairs on the Farragut to join them and fill in any blanks. Then Garrovick asked a few more questions, which were answered without evasion. And finally, there was silence.

"I don't know what to say," Garrovick at last broke it, "except for one thing. Jim, Mr. Singh, if there's anything I can do to help, just let me know. I'll do anything I can. Obviously, if you go ahead with this, there will be court procedures. If I'm anywhere near Earth, I'll be happy to act as a character witness."

"Thank you, Stephen," Jim said sincerely. It was all he'd been hoping for, and he took it as a sign. Anyone getting to know Khan without prior prejudice would surely take his side in this. This was going to work. It had to.

 

* * *

 

**Epilogue - 6 months later**

_Captain's Log, stardate 2261.087. We have just received a message from Starfleet Command informing us that the USS Farragut has been lost in the Tycho system with all hands._

_Personal log, supplementary. I'm shocked and desolate. Stephen Garrovick was my friend, and now he's gone. Sometimes I think Bones is right - what are we doing out here? Life is so ridiculously fragile. Space has claimed over 300 lives today, probably claims dozens or hundreds or thousands each day that we never hear about, and yet... And yet, I can't image doing anything else with mine. But still, it hurts. It fucking hurts._

 

* * *

 

They were in the Rec Room. Everyone of them had had at least one friend aboard the Farragut - or, in Khan's case, an ally.

"Think they sent her out again too soon?" Scotty wondered, nursing a whisky. "She was badly hurt, poor lass. Five months did seem awfully little time..."

"We do not know what occurred," Spock reminded him. "Starfleet's report was lacking any details. It is possible that this has nothing to do with the ship's state at the time it happened."

"True."

There was a pause.

"I hate losing friends," Jim finally broke it. "I hate it even more when I don't even know why I've lost them. I feel like going to the Tycho system myself and finding out what happened."

"And to take our revenge," Khan added.

Jim looked at him with a fond smile that suddenly turned serious. "Yes. That, too."

Not for the first time, Leonard contemplated that these two were really very similar; both driven by the fierce need to protect and avenge their loved ones. It was almost as if they were destined to either hate each other to the death or to love each other with all of their being, with no in-between. Leonard was glad they had chosen not to hate each other.

And talking of destiny... "Seems we've been given a sign," he said, raising his glass of Southern Comfort.

Predictably, Spock raised an eyebrow. "A sign, Doctor? What sign?"

"A sign telling us that this bone-headed plan of going public with Noonien is a bad idea. This tragedy, horribly as it was, has erased all knowledge of him existing except what the people on this ship know. We've been given the chance to re-think. I think we should take it."

"And keep hiding Noonien and all the things he has done and keeps doing for us?" Jim said. "I hate it. It'll slip out at some point anyway. It may already be out - six months is a long time. I think we should go out with it."

Khan took a drink from his glass of Saurian Brandy as if it were wine. "Hiding is for cowards," he said. "However, I would prefer we wait until we have a strategy in place. This is a war we can fully control - when it occurs, who will take part from our side, what we may expect to happen. But only if we use intelligence first, brief our allies and get them into position, learn where the enemy stands on the matter, find out who from their side may confront us and anticipate their strategy." He smiled at Jim. "Emotion has its place on the battlefield, but in the war room, cold thinking should prevail."

Jim smiled back at him. "You're the expert."

Scotty, clearly thinking that this was syrupy enough for the occasion, butted in. "Och, why can't we just leave it as it is? There's still four years ta go on our mission. I'd rather go explorin' space a bit more before we get all tied up in court thingamajics."

"Oh, we will," Jim said. "Absolutely no rush, Scotty. Noonien's right, we can choose the time, and it certainly doesn't have to be now. I'll just put out some feelers. There's a lawyer I know. Then there's the general Section 31 thing we have to consider, who's in on it, Starfleet's attitude towards it, stuff like this. Anyone who knows someone can do the same thing, just, you know, general lay-of-the-land stuff, without mentioning details." He turned to Spock. "Maybe your, uh, alter ego can help."

"I am afraid not, Jim," Spock said. "Mr. Spock's attitude towards Noonien is decidedly adversarial. In his timeline, things clearly did not turn out the way they did in ours."

"Hmm, I wonder why," Khan said. "I can't imagine these events turning out any differently. We found common ground and worked from there. Surely, that is the most probable outcome."

 _Maybe_ , Leonard thought, _maybe, in that timeline, Jim and you did decide to hate each other..._

He went on considering this while around him, what-ifs and maybes were being discussed. A world where Jim and Khan hated each other, the way they had for a while in this one as well, not seeing the value each could have for the other, and he felt pity for that Jim Kirk and that Khan Noonien Singh, especially when he saw the way the two specimens from this world were sitting next to each other, slightly leaning towards one another, always attuned, Khan healed by being able to trust, and by being trusted by those around him. By being able to love, and to be loved. And Jim finally at peace with himself and his place in the universe.

_Man, am I glad I'm the Leonard McCoy in this world._

The End


End file.
